inside-out shirt

inside outi put my shirt on
inside-
out.
again.

she grinned,
and right away
took it off me
and put it back
on
again,
the right way

or so it seemed.
the seams
could be seen.

for being a bohemian
she’s trying so damn hard
to get it right
to figure it out.

and I told her so.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“See?” I tasked.

maybe it’s
the musician in her.

maybe it’s the trickster in me.

what she doesn’t know
is that I put the shirt
on
inside-
out
on
purpose.

because i was inside-out
and wanted her to meet me there.

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